


Interstellar Matchmaker

by tisfan



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky 2016/2017 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Sex Pollen, a bit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Anonymous: Star Wars!AU Bucky has a mechanic (Tony) fix his ship. And they get tangled in wires and tied together.





	

“It’s Imperial navy,” the mechanic said, wiping his greasy hands on a dirty rag. Bucky was pretty sure the rag was actually coming away the winner in that particular contest. “I can’t help you. I like being functional and all non-blown-up.”

The mechanic was attractive, even under all the grease, with a kissable mouth and his bare arms were ripped with muscle from carrying engines. Short, too, which Bucky preferred, a little tired of getting a crick in his neck from looking up at his co-pilot all the time. Despite the words and the sarcastic tone, the mechanic was grinning, checking Bucky out as well. That’d be nice, it had been months since Bucky had a little R&R.

“The G-93R Renegade class hasn’t been in service in the Imperial Navy since the fall of the Galactic Republic. They were decommissioned in favor of the Infiltrators, which have less cargo space and more maneuverability. Despite that, it’s top of the line radar-resistant. No one ever sees me coming or going.” Bucky said, desperately. “Look, I can pay. I have a whole cargo bay full of bondite, resinite and diatium alloys, plus credits. The Hydra’s my home, I can’t have her grounded.”

The mechanic let out a great puff of air, eying Bucky with abject interest. “She is a pretty ship, I’ll give you that. Very sleek; decades ahead of her time. All right, Captain, I’ll see what I can do. If only to get you out of here faster. I’m Tony Stark, at your service.” Tony sighed and gestured to one of his droids. “R2-KT, check it out, would you? Plug in, see what’s wrong.” 

Bucky waved at his crew and their one passenger. “This is my co-pilot, Steve, my navigator and ship’s physician, Bruce, and that’s Wanda Maximoff, a paying passenger.”

Tony eyed Wanda warily, as well anyone should; the tiny woman radiated both serenity and aggression in equal measure and her eyes were as red as a Corellian sunrise. She bowed, her robes moving easily. At her hip, she carried a lightsaber openly, and those were a rarity in the universe. Tony returned the bow with a surprising amount of grace for a grease monkey.

“Mr. Stark,” she said, touching her lips in a formal gesture.

“Master Maximoff, my shop is honored.”

“Give my love to your mother, when next you see her,” Wanda said, then walked away toward the busy marketplace street.

Tony paled, took a step closer to Bucky as if for protection. “Well, that wasn’t threatening at all,” he said in an undertone as she moved out of hearing. “My mother’s dead.”

“She’s a bit of an odd one, all right, but she pays the bills,” Bucky said. “Come on up, I’ll show you around. Flight stabilizers are shot, we had a hell of a time getting on the ground again right side up. Can’t really leave now, even if you weren’t gonna help us.”

“What does Master Maximoff pay you for?” Tony asked, still staring after Bucky’s departing crew. Bucky sighed; Tony was probably watching Steve in particular. Of course he was. No one ever even _looked_ at Bucky when Steve was in the room.

“She’s a Seeker,” Bucky said, drawing Tony by the upper arm, away from his delectable, but entirely straight co-pilot. “She meditates, gives us coordinates, and we fly her around. She says she’s following the Force; we’ve transported her all over the galaxy to mediate peace treaties, oversee wedding alliances, introduce promising couples. Finds the truth of the matter. Sees trouble before it’s coming and puts a stop to it.”

“An interstellar match-maker?” Tony suggested.

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but sometimes,” Bucky said. “That’s her bunk, there, and crew is across the hall. My cabin’s in front, engineering is down that corridor, the computer banks are here in the central lounge, and the galley is through there. Help yourself to a po’dorj, we got a bushel basket while we were on Ord Mantell from some of those Ebruchi tradefleets. Best eat ‘em before they go bad, right?”

“If you’ve got soykaf, I’ll love you forever,” Tony promised, already up to his waist in the ship’s core, only his round ass and long legs showing. “R2, are you even looking at these systems? I swear, I’m going to remove your motivator and use you as a trashcan one of these days.”

The pink droid hissed and beeped at her master and then promptly ran over Bucky’s foot on her way to the computer banks. Bucky used the dispenser and poured a cup of soykaf for the mechanic and left it in engineering, out of the way of both droid and master, as the two of them were busy arguing. 

“Hey, hey,” Tony said, grabbing the drink with one hand and Bucky’s arm with the other. “I got you covered, this is simple, just a remix of the tyradium fuels and the converter’s borked it up. I got a spare in the yard, shouldn’t take more than a day to install after I clear the fuel lines.”

Bucky groaned. Clearing the fuel lines was a tedious process, taking upwards of eighteen hours to complete, and tyradium fumes, while not poisonous, were also an intoxicant. Regulations decreed that a captain could not leave his vessel without a proper supervisor while a fuel drain was performed, and the last time he’d left Steve in charge of a drain, the bastard had gotten drunk as fuck on fumes and picked a fight with one of the swoop gangs on Nar Shadda. The _entire_. Gang. On the plus side, it had amused Wanda to no end, and the Force user had spent the better half of the day levitating the battered gang members out into the airlock. She hadn’t actually spaced them, but it was a near thing.

Bruce wasn’t qualified, and no one asked Wanda to do anything. Ever. So that meant Bucky was going to have to spend most of a day getting quietly drunk on fumes and fantasizing about a mechanic that he couldn’t have and getting melancholy. Because Bucky did one of two things when he got drunk; flirted or moped. There was no in between.

“Yeah,” Tony said, rubbing his hands together. “Always exciting work, one of the perks of the job.”

“I’ll let my crew know to stay planetside,” Bucky said, “and I’ll be in my cabin if you need me.”

Bucky felt eyes on him as he walked away, but when he turned back, Tony was unscrewing the fuel regulator panel. Bucky heaved a sigh and went to the shipcom, informing Steve and Bruce of the change in status. “You’re on leave for the next two days, unless I yell for you.”

“Aye, Captain,” Steve said. “You want me to tally restocking, while we’re here?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky said, waving a hand at the transparent, flicking holo. He needed to adjust that thing, because Steve was still too tall on the holo.

Four hours later, the cabin was filled with the scent of Aurilian nector and Bucky was lying on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, his hands tucked under his head. 

“Ow!” There was a clatter of pipes and the sounds of an overly large toolbox hitting the decks. Bucky lept to his feet and collided with the door frame in his haste. He’d forgotten how bad the fumes got to him, his whole body was fighting him on the upright and mobile fronts.

Bucky staggered into engineering to find Tony wrapped up in a section of interior cabling. “How did you manage that?” Bucky asked, stupidly staring at him, blinking one eye and then the other, as if the view was going to change. He had a cable wrapped around one ankle that had him suspended upside-down from the ceiling, the gravitron wires locked together around one arm. His shirt had fallen up and most of Tony’s lean stomach and chest were on display, including a round implant in his chest that glowed a soft blue.

“Not entirely certain,” Tony said, giggling. “Think I’m drunk, boss.”

Bucky took a step closer and the gravitron wire detached, clicking onto Bucky’s mechanical arm; he’d lost the arm from the mid bicep down in a bad firefight on the Kuati Drive Yards. The replacement worked fine, for the most part, even if a lot of people were uncomfortable looking at it. 

“Let’s see if I can’t get you down from there,” Bucky said, detaching the graviton cable from his arm with a _plink_. 

“Wait, wait,” Tony said, but Bucky had already reached up and pulled on Tony’s belt. The cable let go, and Tony fell onto Bucky. They dropped onto the deck with a pained oof, and then Bucky was more than aware of the warm, wriggling body on top of his. Tony got a hand under himself and started to push up. He stopped, suddenly, his face only inches away from Bucky’s. He licked his lips, eyes wide.

The graviton cable activated again, wrapping over Tony to attach itself to Bucky’s arm again. There was an alarming creaking noise.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Bucky said, and then the floor hatch gave way, spilling them both into the tangle of wires and graviton cables beneath the ship’s deck. Tony was pinned, one thigh between Bucky’s legs, one arm around Bucky’s shoulder, the other between their bodies, his hand resting a little too close (or was it too far away?) from Bucky’s groin for comfort.

“Well, this is awkward,” Tony said, laughing. He squirmed, reaching for the gravity-release switch just past Bucky’s head, dragging his body over Bucky’s which…

“Oh, sweet maker,” Bucky muttered, completely and utterly aware of the drag of Tony’s flesh against his, growing hard and wanting.

“Huh, Captain,” Tony said, glancing down, his brown eyes dancing, “is that a lightsaber in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” He wriggled, experimentally, which drew the cables tighter around them.

“Stop moving,” Bucky ordered, “or you’re gonna find out.” He panted for breath, aware of the heat and weight of Tony’s lithe body and… well… awkward boners for everyone. Bucky swallowed hard, hot with wanting, desperate and needy and… this was wrong, so very wrong and yet… he hooked a leg into one of the cable loops, and they rolled, now Bucky was on top and Tony’s arm shifted until his palm was directly over Bucky’s cock, hard and straining against his trousers.

“I’m not sure if that helped us get out,” Tony noted, wiggling his fingers and smirking when Bucky groaned, “but I’m not complaining.”

“You are a menace,” Bucky growled, stretching up with his flesh arm, reaching for the switch.

“You’re the one with the Force match-maker on board,” Tony pointed out.

Bucky blinked. “What?”

Tony lifted his head, his kissable mouth close to Bucky’s cheek. “She’s not the only Force-sensitive around here,” he whispered. “I’ve been dreaming about you for weeks.” Tony slipped his free hand around Bucky’s neck and drew him down for a kiss, tasting of Tyradium fumes and soykaf and that was familiar, that kiss had been the star of a number of _Bucky’s_ dreams, as well.

Above them, Wanda peered down into the mechanisms. “Good night, boys,” she said. “We’ll be headed to Yavin Four in a week, so you’d better pack tomorrow, Tony.” She slid the panel closed with one foot.

“I hate that woman,” Bucky said, then returned to kissing Tony, which was a much better activity. The cables, released from Wanda’s Force control, dropped them gently to the floor, the room lit by Tony’s chest module. The fuel line dump would take another half day or so. Plenty of time for some Force-dreams to come true in the meanwhile.

End


End file.
